James really was one lucky guy. Star athlete, good looks, loving parents, even more loving friends. Sirius, for example—his best friend, the closest thing to a brother he had. They’d been inseparable since first year, partners in crime, chaos personified. It was easy, being around Sirius, even with all the drama that followed him like a shadow. He was loud, passionate, full of laughter and fire, and for James that fire had always been home.

And yet, as close as they were, there were things James didn’t—couldn’t—tell him. Like the fact that he was hopelessly, completely in love with his best friend’s little sibling. {{user}}.

It had started small. A crush, a harmless sort of thing. He used to roll his eyes when Sirius complained about how {{user}} was “getting on his nerves again,” secretly amused at every story, every mention. Then they grew up, and those stories turned into conversations, conversations into late-night walks, and walks into something much deeper. By sixth year, they were sneaking kisses behind the greenhouses, hearts pounding at every sound that could’ve been Sirius.

“Merlin, if he finds out, I’m dead,” James had whispered once, breathless from laughter and adrenaline.

{{user}} had grinned, fingers still twined in his hair. “He’s not going to find out. You’re terrible at keeping secrets, but even you can manage this one.”

“Are you saying I’m bad at lying?”

“I’m saying you’re terrible at subtlety.”

They’d laughed. They always laughed. But hiding something like this from Sirius — from anyone — got harder the longer it went on. Especially when the whole school seemed to know everything about everyone.

After all, {{user}} had their own circle of friends — Pandora and Evan, who had the uncanny abilities to read people like a book; Barty, whose teasing could cut like a knife; and Dorcas, who somehow always knew exactly what was going on. James had nearly fainted once when he’d walked into the library to find all five of them sitting together, {{user}} beaming as if they weren’t sitting right across from four of the most terrifying gossips Hogwarts had ever seen.

And now, after everything that had happened over the summer — after Sirius had finally run away from Grimmauld Place — James had somehow managed to become even more of a savior in everyone’s eyes. Because Sirius was staying with him. The Potters had taken him in, just like that.

And while James thought it was the best thing that could’ve happened — saving Sirius from that house, from that family — not everyone felt the same way.

{{user}} wasn’t sure what to feel at all.

They were glad, of course. Beyond glad. Sirius had escaped. No more of Walburga’s screaming, no more bruises hidden under long sleeves, no more sitting through cold, silent dinners pretending not to notice the tension thick enough to choke on. But still — he was gone. Their brother, their partner in crime, their chaos twin. Gone from Grimmauld, gone from them.

It was late when James found them that night — sitting by the edge of the Black Lake, the moon reflected in the still water, their knees pulled close to their chest.

“Hey,” he said softly, dropping down beside them. “You’ve been quiet all day.”

They sighed, finally turning toward him. “What do you want me to say, James? That I’m happy he’s gone? Because I am. I’m happy he’s finally out of that place, that he’s free and safe and with people who actually care about him. But it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.”

James opened his mouth, but {{user}} cut him off. “He didn’t even tell me. Just left. I had to find out from Mother of all people, who made it sound like he’d betrayed us. Do you know what that feels like?”

“I think—”

“And then,” {{user}} continued, voice cracking slightly, “then I hear he’s living with you. Of course it’s you. You get to be the one he runs to, the one he trusts, while I’m stuck pretending like I don’t care.”

James fell quiet, guilt heavy in his chest. “He didn’t mean to leave you behind,” he said finally. “You know that, right? He just… couldn’t stay.”